Heat coils in me again, tighter and faster than before.
“Diablo—” I gasp.
“Come for me,” he orders, voice breaking. “Come now.”
I let go. My orgasm hits like a wave. I shatter around him, trembling, crying out, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing left.
He groans, hips stuttering, then he slams in deep and comes with a low, savage sound, face pressed to my throat like he can’t hold himself upright without me.
For a moment we just breathe.
The bass outside thumps.
Voices roar.
The club keeps partying like the world isn’t ending.
But in here, my whole life feels like it just split open.
Diablo stays inside me, hands locked on my hips, breath hot at my collarbone.
Then he lifts his head.
His gaze drops to my mouth, then my bruises, then my eyes.
“You’re staying,” he says.
It’s not a question.
I swallow hard. My pride tries to gather itself.
“You don’t get to decide—”
A knock hits the door.
Hard.
“Prez.” Magic’s voice. Low. Serious. No party in it. “We got eyes outside. Rico’s moving.”
Diablo closes his eyes for half a second like he wants to put his fist through the wall.
Then he looks back at me.
And the softness is gone.
The devil is back.
He pulls out, fixes my clothes with quick hands like he’s done it a thousand times, then grips my jaw again.
“You stay in this office,” he says, voice like steel. “Door locked. Nobody comes in but me or Magic. If anyone else tries, you scream.”
My heart hammers.
He sees it and his thumb strokes my lip once, gentler.
“I’m not locking you away,” he murmurs. “I’m keeping you alive.”
Then he opens the door and steps out into the noise like he’s walking into war.
